


Rumble

by crayyyonn



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayyyonn/pseuds/crayyyonn
Summary: Contrary to Jinyoung’s increasingly frequent accusatory looks, Yugyeom did not pick a fight with Jaebum.





	Rumble

Contrary to Jinyoung’s increasingly frequent accusatory looks, Yugyeom did not pick a fight with Jaebum.

First of all, he would not. As their resident peace-loving, hyung-respecting maknae, he always backs down in deference to the older members, mainly because it’s much less effort to do so. What’s pride? It can’t be eaten, that’s for sure.

Second, any fight among the group, explosive or otherwise, always simmers down to a frigid awkwardness Yugyeom hates, because it takes forever to dispel. Even with three-seventh of them moved out from the dorm, they’re in each other’s pockets almost constantly. It’s senseless to have badwill hanging over their heads.

Third, even if he were fighting with Jaebum, it wouldn’t have lasted this long. Yugyeom doesn’t have the grit and determination required to sulk forever, nor is he petty enough to stay sore, but you know who is? _Literally all of the hyung-line with the exception of Youngjae._

Fourth… he doesn’t really have a fourth, so Yugyeom responds to Jinyoung’s _excuse you, Youngjae does too hold grudges_ with a put out sigh followed by a peevish, “Not the point, hyung.”

Because no, he didn’t pick a fight with Jaebum. In fact, he didn’t even _know_ they were fighting until he finally catches on to the silent treatment he’s getting from their esteemed leader. It starts small, from Jaebum getting Jinyoung to tell him about schedule changes and pretending not to hear suggestions he makes during rehearsals unless he repeats them, to outright ignoring Yugyeom when he answers him about where to eat. Which, to be honest, is within the limits of acceptability, since Yugyeom hadn’t noticed anyway.

But this? This he notices.

“Seriously, where does he get off?” Yugyeom fumes, plucking the post-it from the fridge. 

_whoever’s turn it is to get groceries yesterday, pick up milk_

It’s not addressed to him specifically, but Yugyeom knows it’s meant for him. Not only because Jaebum is always the one to schedule their chores, but also because the post-it is stuck right next to the Moomin magnet Yugyeom had bought. There’s subtle, and then there’s this. 

Jinyoung shrugs. “Before this, with you.”

Yugyeom has to restrain the urge to fling the butter knife he’s holding at his head. Hyung-respecting, he reminds himself.

“I’m just a convenient option, hyung, you know that.” He ignores Jinyoung’s contrary scoff, because that’s exactly what the... _thing_ between them is, continuing, “Where did he even get post-its? It’s not like we have basic stationery in this house.”

They don’t; Yugyeom was the sole supplier of pens and paper when he was still in school, because it was necessary for him to have them on hand. Now, he doesn’t think he’s seen a pencil in weeks. Which means Jaebum would have had to pick up both post-its and markers (plural, because there’s been three separate notes in three separate marker colors) from the convenience store himself. And all because he’s fighting an imaginary fight against Yugyeom for reasons unknown.

He reads the message on the post-it again, noting the aggression in the dots of the i’s and the crosses of the t’s before crushing it in his fist. Honestly, couldn’t he have texted, if he no longer wants to talk to Yugyeom for whatever reason? Sometimes his hyungs boggle him, he thinks as he slips his wallet into his pocket and heads for the door to make his way to the grocery store.

 

The second note is stuck to his shelf on the rack they brought over from the old dorm to house their clean laundry, picked up from the laundromat by their housekeeper. Yugyeom doesn’t even notice it until Youngjae, staying over at the dorm for a night so it’ll take less time for them to head to the airport the next morning, picks it up and reads it aloud.

“‘Keep your own clothes, we’re not here to pick up after you’. Wow, you’ve really done it this time. I’ve never seen Jaebum hyung pissed off for this long.”

It has been nearly a month, now that Yugyeom thinks about it. But Youngjae is wrong about the reason; Yugyeom hasn’t done anything to instigate this. He looks up from where he’s setting up the Xbox for their game and says the same.

“I don’t know who’s been peeing in his morning coffee but it’s not me, hyung. You know me, I keep the peace around here, unlike you guys.”

Youngjae’s answering snort, when it comes, is disdainful. “Hyung’s mellowed out so much, even Jackson hyung’s bitching about having to call him hyung doesn’t faze him anymore. You’re literally the only one who gets him worked up these days.” And here, Yugyeom prays Youngjae doesn’t continue with this line of thought, but no dice, because Youngjae is the most cunning one out of all of them, bar Jinyoung. “Except it’s no longer the _fun_ way, if you catch my drift. We’re all suffering as a result, Gyeom-ah.”

Yugyeom does ‘catch his drift’, thanks Youngjae for the edifyingly obscene gesture, and he doesn’t appreciate it. Nor does he appreciate the eyebrow waggling that’s currently happening on Youngjae’s face. Grabbing a pillow, he lobs it at the vocalist, only to miss by a mile and striking the cup perched on the edge of the coffee table. Who the fuck even puts a cup there? Fortunately it’s plastic, and only filled with water.

“Shit, now you’ve gone and done it!” Youngjae screeches. Yugyeom shushes him but it’s too late, the door to Mark’s room opens.

It’s Jaebum who plods out because Mark is the only one who will let him share when the cats take over his own room, aside from Yugyeom. He’s all bleary eyes and messy hair, the blanket Yugyeom’s mom bought for all of them last winter wrapped around around his shoulders. He looks annoyed and rumpled and so very desirable Yugyeom has to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from pouncing on him. Jaebum is the one who does the pouncing, he reminds himself.

“Keep it down, some of us are sleeping,” Jaebum says, voice sharp despite the sleep-hoarseness. “And for fuck’s sake stop making messes for other people to clean up.”

He’s pointedly only looking Youngjae’s way but Yugyeom gets the feeling that second remark is intended for him all the same. He bristles, but before he can retort, argue, maybe grovel, if that’s what it takes to get Jaebum to _look_ at him, the older man is already striding off back to his room.  

 

They manage to go two weeks without anymore notes, Yugyeom being extra careful to not antagonize Jaebum and Jaebum going out of his way to be alternatingly catty and sullen. Not that any of said cattiness or sullenness is directed toward Yugyeom, at least not on the surface. But Yugyeom has a sixth sense about these things.

So does Jackson and Bambam, apparently, because they descend on him together, twin looks of annoyance on their faces during a break in a particularly tense practice. Sometimes Yugyeom marvels at how these two brothers from different mothers managed to find each other so far away from home.

“Would you fix Jaebum already,” Jackson complains, lifting his oversized shirt to wipe away the sweat on his face. “Every time you two fight we get caught in the crossfire.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yugyeom replies. They’re not fighting, and certainly not as often as Jackson is implying. Jackson isn’t even around enough to know definitively if they are. 

He accepts the water Bambam passes him and chugs all of it down in seconds, overlooking the side of judgment it’s served with. Jaebum has been pushing them all morning, making them repeat sequence after sequence, even after Hyungwoong proclaims them stage ready. Apparently Jaebum disagrees with their choreographer’s professional opinion, calling them out on the tiniest things like _more wave and less roll, Youngjae_ , and _your fingers, Jackson, I need more attitude in them_. Even Jinyoung, normally the one to pick up to perfect their choreography the fastest, doesn’t escape Jaebum’s nitpicking.

Of course, it’s quickly clear to everyone who Jaebum’s ire is really targeted at, because everyone except Yugyeom gets corrected on their ‘mistakes’. Which clearly makes him the only one singled out, especially when Yugyeom purposefully doing the choreography wrong changes nothing. Jaebum barely even blinks, his gaze going straight through Yugyeom like he’s air whenever it lands on him. Yugyeom is sick and tired of it.

So he stops in the middle of what feels like their fiftieth time doing the intro sequence and strides to the computer, slamming the spacebar to stop the music. In the silence that rings in its wake, he starts, “Hyung, I don’t know what your problem is, but whatever it is, I’m sor—”

“Take twenty,” he’s cut off instead. The practice room door slams shut behind him, the loud sound stoking the simmering anger inside Yugyeom into a blaze.

Yeah, they’re not fighting. One-sided as it was before, this is now war.

 

It’s war, so he retaliates with all the maknae-on-top brattiness he manages to muster. He stays out late, knowing Jaebum hates it even though management has long lifted their curfews. Sometimes, he hits the clubs and posts a steady stream of pictures that would kill his career and then some if it ever gets out of his private Instagram, which he knows Jaebum follows. Mostly though, he’s just sitting at random cafes. It’s mind-numbingly boring, sipping on iced chocolate while scrolling through Hollywood gossip on Naver, but he perseveres.

(If he leaves anonymous comments defending Chris Brown to overzealous netizens who won’t forgive one honest mistake, that’s between him and his internet service provider.)

When these get barely an eyebrow twitch from Jaebum, Yugyeom ups the ante to openly challenging him.

 _You sure about that?_ , he asks in reply to Jaebum’s assurance to the management that yes, they’ll get the album done on time, when he’d normally back him up. As far as Yugyeom knows, they’re extremely behind schedule, thanks to Jaebum’s Type A tendencies when it comes to his songs. It earns him a glare from Mark but it’s worth it for Jaebum’s put out sigh. _I don’t think that’s a good idea_ is said in response to Jaebum’s suggestion for them to do a team bonding activity during a production meeting for their new variety show.

“What? You think we’d bond with him treating me like air these past couple of months?” he says, holding his hands up in mock innocence. The way their managers turn to scrutinize Jaebum as one is satisfying, as is the jut of Jaebum’s jaw.

But sweet, sweet victory comes in Japan, because with Yugyeom acting out on live broadcast, there’s no longer any way for Jaebum to ignore him. He should have done this sooner, Yugyeom thinks, as he enthusiastically rattles off overloud, nonsensical statements that stumps even Furuya-san, who’s more than used to them by now.

“Yugyeom-san’s really excited today, I see,” he says with a laugh.

It prompts a, “I really don’t know what’s gotten into him,” from Jaebum, carefully measured to sound bemused, fond, and cautionary all at once, conveyed by a calculated narrowing of his eyes at Yugyeom. It’s a learned skill, the way he’s able to chill any of them to the bone with just one look. He really is a great leader. Still, considering it gets Jaebum to finally look him in the eye, Yugyeom isn’t opposed to inciting that particular glare more. At least he can’t ignore him now.

His efforts to continue on his current path of self-destruction are for naught, though, because Mark pinches the flesh above his waistband _hard_ , masking his pained gasp with a loud laugh. It’s followed by a muttered _quit it or Jaebum will let you have it later_ , and Yugyeom is tempted, so tempted to not. Jaebum letting him have it is the singular goal he’s working toward here, after all.

But even he, at the peak of his pretend brattiness cannot ignore the way their managers are scowling at him from beyond the cameras. Even Yeonju, who typically dotes on him the most, is frowning at him. Wisely, Yugyeom decides to tone it down. A short-lived victory is still a victory after all.

And should he regret it later in case Jaebum ends up dialing the frigidity down to negative nine billion, well, that’s for future him to worry about.

 

Luckily for him, they enter into a semi-truce for the rest of their stay in Japan. Jaebum still isn’t talking to him but he isn’t outright ignoring his existence either, although it’s a near thing. It’s a coincidence really, that Yugyeom forgets his key card on a convenience store run and is stuck outside their concert venue during a break in rehearsal, and that Jaebum happened to be coming back just as Yugyeom is about to press dial. 

The universe must be on his side, Yugyeom decides, even if the irritated expression that takes over Jaebum’s face rivals all he’s ever pulled at Yugyeom to date. It magnifies when Yugyeom sheepishly explains the situation. Jaebum doesn’t say anything in response, which isn’t surprising, but does sigh and tap his card on the reader, pushing the door open. Yugyeom barely cares that he doesn’t bother holding it open, bounding down the hallways after him with a grin.

He thinks it’s thawing then, this cold war they’ve been stuck in for longer than he can stand now. The conviction is fortified by him catching Jaebum guzzling on the taro tea he’d purposefully bought a few of and sneaked onto the communal snack table in their dressing room. Jaebum must know he’s the one who bought it; it’s not like it was on the list of staples they give to their managers. But no, Jaebum maintains the same level of aloofness and indifference from before, which if Yugyeom is being honest, hurts doubly now that he’d thought their silly fight—because he isn’t naive enough to insist it isn’t anymore—is over.

It persists for the whole hour and a half plane ride back to Seoul during which Jaebum, despite sitting next to him thanks to the automatic seat assignation, proceeds to plug his noise cancelling earphones into his phone and not say a single word to Yugyeom, not just while they’re in the air but throughout the car and elevator ride back to their dorm.

Maybe he wasn’t so victorious after all.

 

Still, hope comes in the form of the note that’s stuck on a mirror while he’s showering.

_take MORE time, asshole. it’s not like the rest of us need to shower too_

“Should have locked the door,” Yugyeom grouses as he peels the note off with wet fingers. Not that he’s much fussed about it. It’s at least a form of direct communication.

He will never admit that he’s taken leaving the door unlocked when he showers because Jaebum likes to jump in with him. To ‘save water’, he’ll say, eyes slitted in cheekiness as his hands wander. Yugyeom misses that stupid grin. He misses the way he curls into him at night, pliant in sleep. He even misses the way he nags about little things. He misses Jaebum, damn it, and enough is enough.

Note in hand, he pulls the door open and strides to Mark’s room, where Jaebum is still crashing in. He’s lying on what looks like a pile of blankets as he scrolls through his phone, feet swinging in the air. Bending, he grabs Jaebum’s wrist and yanks him up despite his spluttering protests.

 _Let’s see you ignore me now_ , he thinks as he throws an offhand, “Oops, sorry hyung,” in reply to Mark’s scandalized _at least put on some goddamn pants_. It’s not like they haven’t seen everything of each others’ at some point through the years; Mark can stand to see him in his underwear.

Jaebum digs in his heels when they get to Yugyeom and Bambam’s—well, now just Yugyeom’s—room, clearly reluctant to take another step. Yugyeom has no patience for this, and with a burst of strength, wrenches him inside and shuts the door.  

Rubbing at his newly-released wrist, Jaebum petulantly says, “I thought you said this was your ‘private space, not a hotel room’.”

Yugyeom rolls his eyes. And the fans think Jinyoung or Jackson are petty. If they only knew. “That was in the heat of the moment, hyung. I was running on two hours of sleep that week and you know I say things I don’t mean when I’m exhausted and stressed out.”

“You also said I should go sleep with my “stupid cats” if all I needed was a warm body in bed with me.”

Jaebum crosses his arms, clearly not ready to back down. Yugyeom wonders what happened to the normally rational, mature man, if he can slam his head against the door behind him hard enough to concuss himself so he doesn’t have to deal with this one.

But he’s an adult, so he replies, “Your cats are not stupid. I’m sorry I said that.”

Jaebum slants a sharp glance his way. “Is that what you’re apologizing for?”

Yugyeom’s not sure he should be apologizing for _anything_ , but short of prolonging their already much too drawn out antagonism, he sighs. “Right. I’m sorry for the other thing too.”

“The other thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Which other thing.” Yugyeom winces at the challenging arch of eyebrow. 

“Er. You know...” he starts, but is cut off when Jaebum continues, “The other thing, meaning the part where you implied the only reason I would come here at night, the only reason I would share a bed with you is because I wanted to get off? Because you were _convenient_?”

Crap. Yugyeom shrinks into himself, and not just because of Jaebum’s raised voice. “How did you,” he starts.

“I heard you talking to Jinyoung,” comes the peevish reply.

Yugyeom swallows. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry I heard or sorry you said it?”

Not sure which is the correct answer, he hedges his bets. “Er, both?”

Wrong answer, he decides when Jaebum just heaves an irritated sigh, casts his eyes heavenward as though asking for divine assistance, then slams a hand against the door, inches from his face. Before Yugyeom manages to formulate a question in his head, Jaebum is kissing him, pressing their lips harshly together, teeth scraping at his lips punishingly. Unbidden, Yugyeom gasps.

He’s missed this, missed the way Jaebum feels, the way he tastes, an illicit pleasure that he was sure he can’t enjoy too much lest he can’t let go when it’s needed of him. It’s always been a temporary arrangement, this thing between him and Jaebum, he’s sure of it. But if it means he gets to be with Jaebum, no matter how fleetingly…

Sagging bodily against the door, he winds his arms around Jaebum and draws him in, tilting his head to welcome the punishing pressure. He’s there for the taking. But at that very same moment his inaction turns into tentative response, the kiss gentles, lingers. It’s so tender, so unlike earlier that Yugyeom wants to cry. Much too soon, Jaebum pulls away, although not quite far enough for Yugyeom to hide from the dark gaze locked on his. Yugyeom thinks he’s seeing right through to where the prickling heat is building at the back of his eyes.

“It’s not because you’re convenient, you idiot,” Jaebum starts. “You’re the furthest thing from convenient. You talk back, you shoot down my ideas, although to be fair most of the time they’re bad, you don’t defer to me just because I’m older and the leader. And that’s... that’s precisely why I like you.”

Yugyeom swallows the automatic apology on the tip of his tongue, blinks. “What?”

“I said I like you. You think I can’t make the cats get off my bed if I really wanted to?”

Yugyeom must be making a really ridiculous face then because Jaebum smiles, brighter than Yugyeom has seen in a while. It grows impossibly wider, or perhaps that’s just his distorted field of vision as Jaebum leans in to peck him on the lips again.

“Idiot.”

With difficulty, Yugyeom replies, “As if you’d chase the cats off your bed if that’s where they want to sleep.”

His tone is disdainful, but he thinks Jaebum understands what he means anyway from the way he’s desperately clutching at the hem of Jaebum’s hoodie, the way Jaebum doesn’t budge from where he’s leaning against Yugyeom, a line of heat along his bare skin. Having him like this, loose and relaxed in his arms, it’s like the past two months never happened.

So he continues, “Guess it’s a good thing mine is more than big enough for two.”

Jaebum’s eyes curve into crescents as he nods. “Guess it is.”

He loves the sound of Jaebum’s laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: yugyeom's positive opinion of chris brown aka garbage human does not reflect mine. /side eyes him till the end of time and beyond
> 
> this was terrible i'm sorry i just wanted them passive aggressively fighting each other bc petty jaebum is hilarious to me even if it's OOC but somehow it turned... into... this...


End file.
